She was crying again. She cried a lot, although she was finally starting to get better. Some people figure it was because she was in a parallel world instead of her true one, and they were almost, almost right, but they were missing the details. Being in a parallel world in and of itself wasn't enough to make the brave and strong Rose Tyler break down in tears, but because of this place, she was forever cut off from the person that mattered most to her in the entire universe; in every single universe throughout time and space. And the thing that made it even worse for her, was that this person, the man she loved with all her heart, was right beside her, and yet worlds away and completely alone.
Rose loved me. I knew she did, because I was him, and I loved her with every fiber of my being. She made me better, she made everyone better for knowing her, and there was no way you couldn't love her. But sometimes she would go out on the balcony and stare up at the sky, and tears would fall down her face as she remembered the life she had lived, and could never live again.
The Doctor, the true Doctor that still had two hearts, was gone, and she cried not because she would never see him, but because he would never see her. She knew from the start that he would have to wipe Donna's memory—that was what had happened when she had taken the time vortex into herself—and that once he did, he would take Donna home. After that, the Doctor would be all alone again.
"Rose," I said softly, walking out onto the balcony and sliding an arm around her shoulders. "Rose, it's alright. Please don't cry. He's alright."
She turned to look at me, her eyes shining far too brightly, and buried her face in my chest. I held her close, stroking her soft blonde hair and just wishing there was something else I could do for her.
"No he isn't," she cried. "He isn't, and you know it! He's all alone, after I promised I'd stay by his side forever!"
"Rose," I coaxed, setting my chin on the crown of her head. "Rose, you can't cling to that forever. He'll find a companion again."
"How?" she demanded. "How could he, when every companion he's ever had got sent away? He loved me, and I still had to leave him! How could he survive taking another companion now? Being alone is even worse when you remember how it feels not to be! You know—I know you do. You're him, you remember how he felt. Being alone."
I squeezed her tightly in answer, because yes, I remembered very clearly how it felt to be all alone for so long, and how it felt to be all alone after finding someone I loved as dearly as I—and he—had loved Rose. But I could feel it now. His mind, and mine, were still connected, albeit faintly, and I could feel his loneliness. The truth was, it wasn't as strong as it should have been, and I knew the reason why. I had for a while, but I'd been hesitant to tell Rose. Still, I didn't think I could hide it anymore.
"Rose…" I murmured, pulling away slightly to cradle her cheeks in my hands. She pressed her lips together, tears still streaking down her beautiful face. "Rose, there's something I need to tell you. Something important."
"What's that?" she sniffed.
I took one hand away from her face, and tapped my temple with a small smile.
"We're still connected," I told her. "Up here, I can still kind of sense him."
She blinked, and in her surprise, her tears slowed. "What? But how's that possible? We're in a parallel world."
I shrugged, and then gently brushed her hair out of her face.
"I don't really know," I said. "But we are. And sometimes I can get glimpses of what he feels. And you're right, he is lonely."
She looked up at the sky again, but closed her eyes, most likely against another flood of tears.
"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" she wondered, choking on a very sad laugh. I hated seeing her like this—he had hated seeing her like this, and we both hated it when we were the ones who caused these moments. Rose Tyler was courageous and strong; she never cried. Moments like this made us want nothing more than to comfort her, to hold her tight and never let her go again.
"No, it wasn't," I admitted. "But this might."
She glanced back at my face. I smiled.
"He's not as lonely as he should be," I informed her. "Not as lonely as we felt when you were trapped here the first time. And do you know why?"
She shook her head.
"Because he can sense me as well," I murmured. "He can sense me, and because he's the one with two hearts, his connection is stronger. Through me, he can still sense you. He can still see you and hear your voice. I think he dreams about you, Rose. He's not as lonely as he should be, because in a way, he's still with you, and you're still with him."
Rose tilted her head, processing this.
"That's…that's true?" she checked. I nodded, and more tears began to slide down her face, but she was smiling brilliantly through them. "He's…he's really…alright, then?"
"He's really alright," I promised, smiling in response to her ebbing sadness. "He really is alright, Rose. I swear it."
Smiling, laughing, still crying, Rose flung her arms around my neck and kissed me. I caught her around the waist and lifted her into the air, kissing her back with all the passion in time and space, with all the love in all the universe, and hoped that this would never end. However, eventually we had to pull away, and when we did, she hid her face in my neck, still wrapped firmly around me.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"You're more than welcome, Miss Tyler," I chuckled. "But I wasn't done kissing you yet."
She didn't pull away from my neck though, so I made due with attacking hers. I kissed every inch of skin I could reach—from the spot behind her ear, down her throat, along her collarbone; I continued to rain kisses on her until, laughing and writhing, she wriggled free of my hold and retreated into the house. Grinning broadly, I followed her inside, but not before I cast a look to the sky, where I knew that somewhere in some distant world, he had paused whatever he had been doing, and was focusing with all his might on myself and Rose.